Over the Hill
by Hana-Akikage
Summary: Nearing the end the Old Ones meet two beings. Their eyes speak of many trials, too much for someone their age. Who are they? (The few times a Nation spoke to another being, and of them figuring out who they were talking to)
Two lone figures stood on a hill overlooking the sea.

Similar heads of sandy blond hair watched on as they saw five figures on the shore, the wind carrying their conversation towards the men on the hill.

 _"I saw you, riding. . ."_  
 _"Riding on the wind"_

The two men listened on as the people continued speaking to each other.

A sharp gust of wind blew and the tallest man on the shore turned to the two, his eyes narrowed. The two stared him in the eyes, not backing down.

The man turned back to his companions, calling them to follow him. After one more look to the odd men on the hill he swiftly walked towards the direction he needed to go, his companions following soon.

They glanced at where the man was looking, yet saw nothing but grass flowing in the wind.

~x~

Two brothers were sitting in the coffee table sipping identical cups of tea with their eyes closes, their expressions grim.

At first glance they looked like twins.

A closer look is needed to see that one is taller than the other, and one's hair is a shade lighter than the other. If their eyes were open they would see one has a darker green, like a forest and the other's can be compared to the green fields and hills one could see in Wales.

The lighter haired one opened his forest green eyes and sighed.

"The end is near, isn't it brother?"

"Yes, and the choice shall be made on my land" the elder sighed, his voice carrting a light Welsh lisp.

"Are you sure he will pick the right one?"

"Yes brother, have some faith in my citizens"

"It's not a matter of faith brother, it's about whether he can choose the world over his wife."

"I believe in John Rowlands. He knows both sides too much. He will choose correctly."

The younger ļoked at his brother, still skeptical.

The elder smiles at his brother "If you still don't believe me, would you like to see for yourself?"

His brother raised an eyebrow "Are we allowed to?"

The Welsh laughed "This is _my_ land brother. They have no authrority over me, lord of high magic or not."

He stood up "Shall we go brother? We shouldn't be late for such an important occasion"

The Englishman stood as well, setting his teacup on the saucer on the table and dusting off his pants.

The Welshman opened the door and walkes out, his brother following wordlessly and closed the door.

~x~

One man was to decide the fate of the world. He was to choose the winning side of a never ending struggle. He was to end an endless feud.

On the outside, John Rowlands looked calm, indifferent even. But on the inside he was panicking.

He knew which sode he should choose. He knew that he should choose the lesser evil and pick the Light.

But he couldn't.

His wife was in front of him. Begging him to choose the Dark. Their sweet words tainting his resolve and was slowly being pulled to their side.

He looked around, at the Old Ones staring at him, pleading for him to choose. The children looked at him with a mix of shock and worry. They were all waiting for him to choose, horrified at the time it took for him to speak.

He was hesitating on a choice thay should have been obvious.

He looked around. Trying to find something that could help him choose. Anything!

His eyes wandered all over the people on the train and landed on a pair of age old eyes.

He stared at him with eyes the color of the hills he loved as a child. His face held an emotion that was hard to describe.

Pity? no. . . Sympathy maybe? Or an awareness that no one else on the train had, sans the people making him choose in the first place.

The man knew what was happening. He knew the choice he had to make. He knew what he had to do.

But whatever emotion his eyes held, it was surely free of judgement.

The man smiled at him, as if to reply to the endless rambling goin on in his head. It made John happy for some reason. It reminded him of the ones his mother used to give him when he was young.

Then a voice like a dragon, melodic but powerful, rang in his head.

 _I trust you John Rowlands. I place my and every other Nation's fate in your hands_

He knew who that man was.

And he knew what to do.

He made his choice.

~x~

England smiled at the scene in front of him.

Maybe it was alright to put his fate in another's hands. Even if it was one of his brother's citizens.

He watched fondly as the man, John, gave his answer. What happened next was a blur of black and white

The next thing he knew a familiar man was in front of him, kneeling woth his sword pointed to the ground and both hands on the hilt.

The people around him looked on with wide eyes. The hawk nosed man bearing the most shocked expression, looking at both England and the man in front of him.

 _It seems that Merlin finally remembers me._

"Sir Albion. I have returned for the end."

"My king, do not kneel. You have exceeded the Fates and won their favor. Walk on with your head held high for you have made me proud"

Every word he said made their expressions even more shocked and even a bit awed as the king of legend stood up from his kneel and addressed the man in front of him.

"My lord, I must leave for the last time. I have been blessed to see you again Sire."

"As am I my king, may you fare well in all you do, may your new kingdom grow as well as I have under your rule."

The king nodded and turned to addressed the people in front of him.

~x~

It was over. The Light won. Both sides agreed on the balance and went, leaving Will Stanton behind as a watcher.

He stayed behind as Bran and the Drews went back to their homes, memories of the battles between the Light and the Dark gone and replaced by ones a normal child would have.

He looked out into the ocean, feeling lonlier than ever.

He alone would remember in their stead. All they have went through safely tucked in the back of his mind, forever remembered by one peorson alone.

That idea terrified him, Will Stanton, the boy not the Old One.

He hated the idea of being the only one to remember all the good and bad memories they shared fighting the Dark.

He needed someone, anyone. A person who can understand what he was going through.

The boy, yet not a boy, sighed. He knew he was asking for too much, all he can do now was to wait and watch until his time comes to be with the others of the Circle.

As he turned to follow the others, he spotted a man not too far from where he was standing, staring out into the ocean just as he was a while ago.

He walked forward and suddenly the man looked in his direction. Their eyes were locked, each one gazing into eyes too old for their physical body.

A scene flashed in Will's mind of a great king kneeling in front of the man in front of him, of green forests the color of this man's eyes, of busy streets amd smiling faces of people bustling around for their work, trying to get there on time, of light rain and soft snow fluttering down from the sky.

He knew this man.

Will walked towards the man his head bowed. Once in front of him, he kneeled as best as he can, holding his breath, waiting for the man in front of him to speak.

He heard a small laugh coming from above him. He sneaked his head up slowly, looking at the man in front of him as he chuckled into his hand.

The laugh made him feel light. It felt like the chimes of church bells as the sound rang through the crowd.

Clear and Beautiful.

The boy stared, unable to move as the man stopped laughing and looked at him, a soft smile gracing his lips.

"Will Stanton"

"Yes, sire?" Will answered, not knowing why he said it.

"Do you know who I am?"

He thought for a moment, the quick awareness he had of the man a while ago played in his mind

"I think so sir, but. . " he thought of the right words "It seems impossible"

"Then speak your mind lad"

"You are. . . England?"

The man smiled wider. Will continued. "A while ago, King Arthur kneeled in front of you, called you Albion. . . There are other reasons, but i believe that one is the most obvious."

The man, no, England put his hand on Will's shoulder.

"Thank you"

"For what?"

"For everything, you and all the other Old Ones. It must have been hard, to be so young yet so old. Don't think you are all alone Will. I- no, we owe you our lives. If you ever need something, even just some company, you can ask for me. After all, there is nothing that goes on in my land that I do not know of."

With that Will blinked, a soft wind blew and the man was gone.

He felt a smile forming on his lips and walked back to his friends feeling lighter than ever.

~ _END~_


End file.
